


Faithful are the wounds of a friend

by fundamentalBlue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Competition for Tony, Happy Ending, Love Triangles, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Omega Tony Stark, for everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 15:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30074034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fundamentalBlue/pseuds/fundamentalBlue
Summary: Tony wishes things would go back to the way they were, but he can't help with that if he can't figure out why the two Alphas aren't speaking to one another. Then there's the fact that they've both been so solicitous of Tony as of late that it's putting him on edge. It's making his hopeless crushes on the both of them all the worse.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 16
Kudos: 240
Collections: MARVELously Knotty Bang (2021), WinterIronShield*





	Faithful are the wounds of a friend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JimmieJive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JimmieJive/gifts).



> I'd like to thank PhenomenalAsterisk for her lovely artwork that goes with this story. 
> 
> As always, thanks to my friendos for their love and support in writing this.
> 
> As for the dubious consent, I always tag that when there is not explicit consent in a fic. In this case, Tony is very willing, but neither of the boys really ask Tony. Hence, lightly dubious consent.

Tony slams himself against the wall after he passes the corner, hands smacking roughly against the surface. Hopeless. They can scent him out wherever he is anyway, but he needs to catch his breath—catch his mind. There was a way out of this, but maybe he had passed it on the highway of this misadventure long since past. 

The elevator opens and Tony holds back a keen. It’s one or both of them, their footsteps solid on the concrete, and he doesn’t know which he wants to escape more. He scents the air, and both of their unique smells fill his nostrils. 

“You never appreciated him like he deserves, Stevie. It’s only now that you want him, just because I do. Because suddenly he has value that I recognize. That’s all.” 

“I’ve always cared for Tony. I never wanted to hurt him. I won’t let you take him away from me now. He deserves better. Are you sure you’re good enough?” 

“It’s not about what he deserves. Not for me, you, or Tony. It’s about what he wants, Steve, and that’s something you can’t provide him with.” 

“So you keep saying. But I don’t think you know for certain what Tony wants, either.” 

“He’s listening to us right now. Shall we go find out?” 

They pause, shuffling. 

Tony bolts. 

\---

The workshop always has a quiet buzz of faint electronics to it, a kind of mundanity but for the fact that Tony thrives in the lack of silence. Needs that delicate hum to concentrate, when he’s not playing much louder music. 

He wishes for a détente, like a teacher in a schoolyard shoving bullies apart, but for that to happen, for him to referee, he has to know what the problem is. And that’s the thing—he doesn’t know. 

Sometime after Bucky came to the tower, he and Steve had ceased communicating. No, that’s not quite true. They did talk, with their angry glares, narrowed eyes, alpha fangs distended, and folded arms bulging with unadulterated rage. Which, they’re supposed to be the epitome of friends, the pedestal upon which everyone in the modern world sets their close relationships. Steve _saved_ Bucky, just as Bucky saved Steve. It’s an old, human story, and yet here they are, rending it apart with a vicious emotion’s claws. Everyone knows that two Alphas living in close conditions can often become competitive, but this is something else. 

It’s not startling, then, that if they can no longer stand each other, they have turned to the team—to Tony—as a means to fill in the gaps. There’s a shallow, ugly part of him that _likes_ it. He has Steve back. Tony is the man who showed Steve the future, but Bucky is the one who brought the past—and Steve has taken to that like a hot knife through butter. He’s sliced and crowded and _pushed_ at Bucky, even as Steve seemed to crave more of it, more of Bucky’s time. Even Tony could see what was happening. 

But that’s not why Bucky doesn’t want anything to do with Steve anymore. 

Somewhere inside Tony, he just knows—he _knows_ —that’s not what it is. 

Because Bucky likes the future, even if Steve doesn’t, and Bucky likes Tony—or, well, Tony likes to think Bucky does. He likes to hope. 

Behind him, the doors swish open and clack back shut. Tony spins around in his chair to see his new favorite pal, Bucky. 

“Arm still giving you trouble? You should just let me make you a new one.” Tony drops his wrench onto the desk behind him and gestures for Bucky to bring the arm with outstretched hands. 

“But then I wouldn’t have a reason to come visit, now would I?” Bucky smells like metal and something masculine, rough around the edges but with a slight musk to it. Tony knows because Bucky has been getting close—physically close—when it comes to the arm, and Tony doesn’t want to tell the man to back off. So sue him. Bucky is a damn fine alpha, and Tony is a single omega.

Not that he should ever date his teammates. That would be… bad. 

_Or would it? Would it really?_

“You know that’s not true. You’re welcome any time,” Tony says. 

“Any time? I might just take you up on that.” Bucky’s grin is all sharp teeth like he has something up his sleeve. Tony rubs at his neck, thinking of what it would be like to feel those teeth in a mating bite. 

“Trying to get me to admit that I like having you around?”

“Oh, doll, I know you do.” It comes out like a purr that shudders and shakes its way down Tony’s spine. _Well then_. 

Altogether, though, Tony is speechless, and he blushes, placing gentle hands on Bucky’s arm while the other man stares down at Tony through the curtain of his long hair. Bucky’s eyes are a more solid, consistent blue than Cap’s, a kinder determination than he used to have swimming in their depths. The Bucky of before was all furrowed brows and downturned lips, struggling with his identity as the Winter Soldier. This man is more secure in himself—maybe less Bucky than he is James Barnes or the Soldier, but somewhere in between. 

Tony fiddles with the panels on the arm, avoiding Bucky’s pursuing eyes. The man loves to look. 

He’s almost finished, musing that this is the third time this particular cog has been busted in the arm—from whatever Bucky is doing that’s causing that—when the door opens again. 

Bucky stiffens all at once, and before Tony looks up, he knows it’s Steve. Only Steve could make Bucky act like he’s on red alert. 

Tony’s tired of all this, to be honest, and he’s not one to keep his mouth shut. 

“Hi, Steve. Come hang out with Bucky and me!” _Real subtle, Stark_. 

“I’m here on Avengers business. I can come back if now isn’t a good time.” 

“I guess I’m almost done. Stick around?” Steve doesn’t answer, but he takes a perched seat on the couch, leg bouncing with agitation. Tony watches out of the corner of his eye as Steve tries desperately to distract himself by pulling fuzzies off the fabric and flicking them from his fingers to the floor. 

Tony slaps the last sheet of metal over the gears and gives Bucky a winsome smile. Bucky returns it and then reaches out to ruffle Tony’s hair with familiarity. 

“Thanks, Tony.” It gives Tony a little boost of confidence—but only just—because as soon as Bucky turns around, he bristles like a dog. Steve responds in kind, their bodies tense and faces closed with anger. Bucky struts out like he owns the place while Steve stays on the couch, compact, with his hands clenched on his knees. 

Like a cut string, Steve relaxes the moment Bucky’s gone. 

“What is it with you two?” 

“It’s not your concern, Tony.” The both of them are as tight as a drum when it comes to the subject of whatever is between them. Neither Bucky nor Steve have given Tony an iota of a clue as to what’s going on. Tony can’t help but let out a long-suffering sigh. 

Steve catches it and gets up as if to comfort him. 

“Hey, it’s no worry, Tony. It’s not your problem, and we’ll figure it out eventually. Hopefully sooner rather than later.” 

“But I want to _help_. I want to fix it. I need to fix things, Steve. I’m a mechanic. It’s what I do.” A month ago, Tony wouldn’t have been so openly emotional with Steve, but things have changed. Bucky is his friend, and being around him makes Tony feel like he’s on some kind of adventure he doesn’t have the quest map to, but Steve grounds him. Steve has been there when Tony has needed him, and especially the times when Tony has pushed other people away. 

Tony has eaten more, slept more, worked more efficiently than any time previous in his life. Sure, he’s not getting as much work done, but what he does is quality, and it’s making up for quantity. 

“Tony, you know what I think already. You need to take breaks. Here, let me give you a shoulder rub. Come to the couch.” Steve gestures at Tony, hands curving in to pull him forward.Tony goes to Steve, tethered to Steve’s request like a balloon, floating forward, reeled in. 

What he would have given months ago to have Steve touch him like this. It makes him feel giddy and somewhat gluttonous as he imagines it. Maybe he doesn’t have Steve as a partner, a lover, an _alpha_ —but he gets to have this. 

They make it to the couch, and Tony awkwardly sits to the side with his legs crossed, back facing where he thinks Steve will want him. 

“Lay on your front, please,” Steve says, soft. A spasm of heat moves through Tony at the request, and as he rolls himself into position, the warmth hits every joint and tendon before flaring through his chest. With his chest pressed to the cushions, he finally stills and waits. 

Steve doesn’t leave him hanging; he spreads firm fingertips to the stratum of his back, Tony’s shoulder blades and spine providing rigid geography that corrals Steve’s movements. Ever so soft, Steve starts to press in, searching out knots. Tony groans when he finds them, helplessly grinding his hips down. It’s heaven. 

“Oh, _fuck_ , Steve.” 

Steve sucks in a harsh breath but doesn’t pause his ministrations, and Tony lets out a low moan when Steve gets at the stubbornly tense tissue in his right shoulder. Steve’s hands roam south, rubbing the base of his spine and pressing down above his glutes. Tony should feel some sense of shame, but he doesn’t care, because he hasn’t been touched like this in so long—and if this is all he gets of Steve, he’ll take it. 

Tony’s shirt is intent on scrunching itself up in the middle, leaving his midriff and lower back exposed. Steve doesn’t seem to notice, his fingers kneading at Tony’s skin, every point of them a warm throb that Tony never wants to end. 

“‘S’at feel good, Tony?” Steve sounds like Tony feels, completely sunken into relief and pleasure. 

“So good, Steve.” Tony can feel himself getting hard, and amazingly, it’s like being doused with water. _Steve_ is here. He can’t just be getting himself aroused with Steve around. Steve will smell it, and what will he think of Tony then? 

So he suppresses, like he’s good at, and flattens his front against the couch, stilling his reflexive urge to rut against it. It takes a good ten minutes, but then Tony drifts off, waking up with a blanket over his back and the automatic lights of the shop dim from lack of movement. 

\---

It’s a clear Tuesday morning, the usual fog of the city unseen, and streaks of light dapple everything in the kitchen with a brightness that has Tony squinting. Grumbling, he throws on a pot of coffee and leans elbows first onto the island, chin in hands, trying to recapture some leftover threads of sleep. 

Steve’s massage lingers in the recesses of his mind, faint traces of his touch sleek along the walls of it. He shouldn’t have let Steve touch him. Their friendship is too important. But he has to admit he loved it—loved the idea of Steve’s hands on his flesh, pushing in, inside him, to where Tony has no defenses against his hero, his ultimate love, Steve Rogers. 

Motes of dust dance in the air, and Tony sighs with resignation, hearing the trundle of someone coming out to join him. 

But, it’s Bucky. 

And Bucky is his friend now. Like Steve.

“Morning.” Bucky’s voice is rough, sleep-worn, and it turns Tony on just a little. He wants to be reminded of Steve’s touch, but there’s something tense between him and Bucky, like Tony is prey, and Bucky is the tiger who happens to be in a cage with an unlocked door. 

Bucky swoops around him and pours himself some coffee. He’s wearing a thin t-shirt and low-slung sweatpants, which Tony tries not to notice, but with the curve of Bucky’s hip bones pressed free from their confines, he can’t help himself. Bucky is right behind him, coffee in hand, when he puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder. 

“Tense? You’ve been working too hard.” 

Tony begins to turn around, but Bucky crowds up behind him and places his other hand on Tony’s opposite shoulder, both sets of fingers rhythmically squeezing at the muscles there. 

Tony melts. 

Yes, Steve has just given him a massage, but he’s sore from it now, and Bucky’s soft rubbing feels like aftercare. 

Bolstered by Tony’s response, Bucky presses just a bit closer to Tony and begins to rub in earnest. Tony can feel the heat emanating behind him, and he tries not to think about how close Bucky is. 

Unlike Steve, Bucky runs his hands up and down Tony’s back, lingering at the sides of his torso and at his hips. Less a rub and more of a caress. The second Tony realizes it, he feels his body lock up. Bucky doesn’t seem to notice as he continues stroking Tony on areas that can be best described as intimate. 

“Anyone in your life treating you nice, Tony?” Bucky whispers in his ear, the breath from his mouth moist and warm. 

“You.” It falls out of Tony’s mouth before he can hold it in. Steve is good to him too, but this isn't like Steve. There’s something tense and hot between them, pulled tight. Steve is like drowning. Bucky is like being too close to a fire. 

Tony gasps as Bucky presses his hips against Tony’s, and he feels the outline of Bucky’s erection grinding against his crack. It’s thick, and Bucky slides it just so. As Tony looks forward onto the blank countertop, stunned, he can see his hands tremble. If there was nothing between them, what’s to stop Bucky from just burying it into him?

“Bucky—” 

“Shh, you want this, I can see it.” Fuck. He does. He didn’t exactly realize it until now, but all he’s been doing is dancing around the attraction he has for Bucky, and for Steve. And what about Steve? This is madness, as fierce as hunger and fever bright.

“Please,” Tony begs. To stop or to make good. Bucky’s hands are like warm water cascading over his body, and he feels like an animal in fear, ready to snap or go limp beneath its keeper’s grasp. 

“You’ll have to be a good boy, and wait for me. For now, you have to get back to work.” Bucky tears himself away then, and Tony can hear him panting behind him. 

It takes Tony too long to compose himself before Bucky slips out of the kitchen, leaving Tony with a desperate hard-on along with so much confusion. 

\--

It’s late, and Tony is alone on the couch, drinking. Thinking about Bucky. About Steve. He knows that Steve hasn’t really shown any interest, but there’s something that holds him back from thinking he can give his all to Bucky, if he’s even considering that. He knows it has something to do with whatever they’re fighting about, but it’s not his _business_. Yet… it feels like it is. 

There’s something about it though, where he feels like he’s a part of it somehow. Like he’s right in the center of it in a way that the other Avengers are not. 

But hell, Bucky. He doesn’t know what Bucky wants. 

He doesn’t know why he even responded to such a blatant overture, but for his newfound, innate _desire_ for Bucky. When Bucky first came, he was scrambled, lost, but slowly he had come around to display a wry sense of humor, a teasing and mischievous manner. It sat in the counterpoint to Steve, who was always sweet and kind, when he wasn’t deadpan or tight with worry. 

Tony liked them both. 

Equally?

Another yes. 

It wasn’t like he was betraying Steve with Bucky, but it felt like that. Like Steve had some prior claim on Tony’s affections. They’d known each other longer, even if Steve wasn’t really his to have and wasn’t interested in someone like Tony. 

So here he was, drinking these concerns along with some expensive whiskey. Cowardice, like alcoholism, is a lifelong condition, of which Tony is more than passingly acquainted with. 

Footsteps echo down the hall and Tony gulps his beverage before hiding it beside the couch. Which is a good idea, because it’s Steve. 

“Tony?” Steve scents the air, super soldier senses so much stronger than the average human. “Why’re you drinking? Did something happen?” 

“Nothing much, just thinking.” Tony is chastened by his behavior. He’s always so reckless. With the team, with his life, with his stuff, with other people’s hearts. That’s why he’ll never have someone like Steve. Bucky seems like he could handle Tony. Steve does too, but Steve doesn’t deserve to be hurt. Tony isn’t sure he _could_ hurt Bucky that way. Bucky seems so stolid, immutable. 

His heart is so traitorous though. He wants Steve _and_ Bucky. 

“Alcohol doesn’t seem like it would help that any.” 

“Yeah, you’re right, but old habits die hard.” He can feel his skin heat and he tastes shame like a hot fragment of metal on his tongue. He swallows, the action loud in the quiet of the room. 

“Tony, it’s ok. I know you’re stressed. You always give so much of yourself to everyone. It’s what I like the most about you, but it’s also the most frustrating thing. Have you thought about taking time for yourself lately?” 

“No time for Tonys in this world, Steve,” he chokes out a laugh. Because there really isn’t room for Tony in Tony’s life. He doesn’t have Pepper anymore, and that’s for the best because she couldn’t stand his other job, Iron Man. And the world needs Iron Man, just as SI needs Tony Stark, the mask in front of the man. 

Tony barely notices Steve walk over and plop himself on the couch until the man is right next to him, breathing the same air. 

“Let me help you relax. I want to do something for you.” Those words ignite something in Tony, and he fleetingly thinks of Bucky before he pushes that thought away and _looks_ at Steve. Steve, who is gazing at him with such sweetness and light, so much more than Tony warrants. Panic is as thick as honey in his throat, but he holds it there, swallows around it, and tries to stay here in the moment, with Steve. 

“That massage you gave was grade A, Captain.” He still feels Steve’s phantom fingers, but in his mind they go lower, spreading him open, gently tapping his hole for entrance, roughly tugging at the head of his cock. It’s a fantasy borne of his desperate, pathetic need for Steve, one that he’s nursed for so long. 

“I want to give you more, give you—anything.” Tony lets out a soft gasp as Steve reaches over and places a warm palm on Tony’s thigh, proprietary in its grip. He feels panic, like a rabbit that’s spotted a dog, but he doesn’t dare twitch or move Steve’s hand away. Tony doesn’t know what this is, why Steve is here and touching him, but he daren’t say no, or it could end, so badly does he want this. 

“Yeah?” The words are bare and vulnerable, wispy as they escape his mouth. 

That hand, the one on his thigh that’s burning a hole into his skin, starts to move, sliding down to the soft interior of his thigh and upwards towards his groin. 

“Yeah, Tony,” Steve says as he reaches Tony’s half-hard cock. With that, Tony can feel every pump of blood into his dick that makes him harder within seconds of Steve’s touch. 

Steve is touching him.

Steve is _touching_ Tony.

“Are you sure—” Tony cuts himself off, terrified of ruining this moment, but also of allowing Steve to take it farther than the man really wants. He can’t want Tony. He’s just being kind. Steve knows that Tony is lonely because Steve sees everything. He’s a brilliant tactician and an even better student of humans. This is just… it’s just a helping hand. 

“I’m sure, let me do this for you.” And that confirms it. Tony feels simultaneously blindingly happy and anguished at the thought that this is all it is. 

“Ok, yeah Steve.” Steve’s hand is gentle but firm as it grasps Tony’s mostly hard cock. Tony hisses in a breath through his teeth and presses his heels to the floor, bucking ever so slightly into Steve’s grip. 

His pants and underwear feel rough over his length, but it’s oh so good to have someone, anyone, especially Steve, touch him at all. As it stands, he’s about halfway ready to orgasm off of the bare minimum of what Steve is doing. And Steve, oh, fucking Steve, he’s drawing the fine bones of his fingers in a slight curve over the ridge of Tony’s cock, feeling every little contour up like the man wants to commit it to memory. 

“You’re so good, Tony. So sweet for me. Want to see you like this. Yeah, that’s it.” Tony’s shoulder blades press into the couch, his spine forming a shallow slope as he arches. It’s so good. So very good. Steve is melting Tony’s inhibitions and he bites back a low moan of appreciation, wishing that he could take his pants off or reciprocate. Something, anything other than this slow, cruel descent into fire that has him melting inside even as his body grows rigid with impending orgasm. 

Tony turns his head to the side and pries his eyes open with sheer willpower, looking to Steve to see. Steve looks wrecked, his hair twisted up into the air from his hands running through it and a red-bitten pair of lips with bright rouged cheeks. It makes Tony warm all over that even Steve is into it, even if it’s just a favor he’s doing Tony. Maybe he’ll let Tony get on his knees. 

“Tony. Want you to come for me, baby. Want it so much.” 

Tony gasps and his entire gut flips around inside as he clenches down and lets Steve’s voice guide him straight into ejaculating. His cock twitches under Steve’s thick hand, soiling his pants and making him groan with how the waves of it crest over and over. 

“You’ll tell me when you’re stressed next time, right Tony? I’d like to be there for you and do this for you.” Steve looks so sincere from what Tony can see through his sweaty bangs that are plastered to his forehead. 

_Sincere doesn’t mean he wants you._

“Yeah, Steve. Anytime.” And then Tony makes his daring escape by scurrying out of the room, leaving all of what just happened behind. He’s trying a new thing; leave before you get left. 

\--

Usually Tony doesn’t hang around in the communal Avengers showers. He’s got his own bathroom that’s leagues ahead of a simple stall with only one spray setting. But today he’s feeling a little down, like he wants to hide. 

It’s been a week since the thing with Steve on the couch, and Tony has been desperate to not think about it or process it at all. Bucky and Steve are still at each other’s throats, only now it seems worse than ever. Today in the field, Steve’s shield almost clipped Bucky, and there were definitely some stray bullets that went Steve’s direction that didn’t need to. Everyone on the team noticed and even Fury had called them to have a word. Which is why they weren’t here at the tower just yet. 

Tony knows all the things people say about how relationships are supposed to be based on mutual respect and liking the other person. That even if it’s just a hookup, you should be considerate to the other person’s feelings. The thing is, Tony can’t tell Steve how he feels. He just can’t. And that’s disrespecting a man who is offering to do him _a favor_. He can’t take advantage of Steve. Even though he very much wants to. But telling? That would be even worse. Because if Steve rejects him, which he will, then the team will suffer the consequences. 

There’s nothing more important than the team itself, even and including over the individuals that comprise it. 

And then there’s Bucky, who, without so much as a by your leave, indicated his interest in the kitchen the other day. Which he doesn’t know how to feel about that. Bucky thrills him whereas Steve grounds him. Steve is sweet where Bucky is pure hedonism. It makes him feel guilty thinking about either one of them in a romantic capacity even though he daydreams of both of them on the daily. 

It’s almost good that they hate each other because that keeps them from seeing what’s probably obviously written on Tony’s face: he likes them both. 

The water is streaming down his back and he’s lost in his thoughts, which is why he doesn’t hear anyone come in until the stall next to him starts running. 

“Hello?” 

“Tony.” It’s Bucky. Fuck, of course, it’s one of the people on his mind. It’s like he’s calling them to him with his fucked up thoughts. 

“Hey. Rough day? Hope Fury didn’t ream you too hard.” 

“Nothing to worry about babe. I’m more concerned about _you_.” The way he says it is liquid sex, like all Bucky is thinking about is Tony. 

“I’m—I’m ok. Just got a lot on my mind.” Tony turns the shower off and makes ready to evacuate the building and his own messed up head. He’s got to stop thinking about them. It already feels like every fantasy he has of Bucky and Steve is a personal violation of their bodies. 

But the shower next to him turns off too, and when Tony steps out with a fresh towel wrapped around his waist, there’s Bucky, gleaming chest and slicked back hair waiting for him. Tony’s eyes trace every magnificent curve of his pectorals and abdomen, each bit of it rippled with power. 

“Like what you see?” And there’s that voice again. The one that makes him want to pant and bend over. Which is how he knows that neither of them could want him. Tony is and has always been a slut. And sluts don’t get beautiful men who want to date them. 

Even he has some pride, however. He won’t sleep with his teammates and screw anything up. 

That only lasts as long as Bucky isn’t in his space because Tony blinks, and there’s Bucky, hip to hip with him, the knot of his towel digging into Tony as he stands there. The look on Bucky’s face is indescribable but for the fact that Bucky’s eyes are razor-sharp focused on Tony’s face. 

“I think you do like it. I think you want me to do things to you, yeah?” Bucky’s fingers make their way inside the loop of the towel, loosening it gently while Tony gasps and flaps his mouth helplessly. 

“Bucky—” Tony doesn’t know why he’s protesting. He can’t think. 

“Shh shh baby, let me. Just let me.” And Tony does. The super-soldier, in a show of gentle that makes Tony aware of the raw power in Bucky’s hands, grasps his bare cock, towel now a sad victim of gravity. 

Tony ruts into Bucky’s hand instinctively. 

“Knew you wanted it. Look at you. Fuck yourself into my hand, Tony. _Do it._ ” 

He can’t not comply. It’s Bucky. His teammate, friend. Tony’s pathetic, he knows, wanting this as bad as he does. It feels too good to question it, and he hitches his hips forward, pressing the base of his cock against the firm ring of Bucky’s hand. The skin over his erection slides as he rocks into it, a little bit of precum smoothing some of the way. 

Bucky grabs Tony’s shoulder and holds tight, fingers digging in. 

“That’s the way, yeah, come on baby, show me how bad you want it.” 

Tony feels like a fucking slut, slamming his cock greedily into Bucky’s fist. He whines unevenly, ashamed, and Bucky steps forward to lick at Tony’s parted lips. His mouth almost snaps shut, but it’s too late; Bucky is inside, tongue tracing teeth and flesh. It’s impossible to keep silent, his pathetic little groans sneaking past the seal of Bucky’s lips. 

It doesn’t take more than a few more thrusts before the electric storm coalescing at the base of his spine makes its way out of his body, spurts of come painting the towel on the floor. 

Bucky steps back, seeming to admire his handiwork, leaving Tony a panting mess. Tony gazes at him warily, despite the endorphins that make Tony want to slouch into Bucky. 

There’s a little smile swimming on Bucky’s lips and the distinct outline of his cock pressed against the towel he’s wearing. Tony looks down in askance, but Bucky holds a hand out to stop him from moving closer. 

“This was for you. You were such a good boy.” The words cause Tony to shudder. He’s never been a good boy, not like that, and he _likes_ it. He wants to be Bucky’s good boy. 

“What—”

“Shh.” Bucky presses two fingers to Tony’s open mouth. “I’ll be seeing you around, Tony.” With that, Bucky stalks out of the showers, leaving Tony feeling fractured and confused. 

\--

Ok, so he’s made a mistake. He should never have let Bucky do that. Tony is out of his mind with how to cope, and he doesn’t know if it was just yesterday that it happened or a week ago. He hasn’t seen the sun in an age and the couch is starting to smell like his unwashed body. Several times JARVIS has turned away people. Bucky, Steve, Pepper, everyone. 

He’s really fucked up.

He is the furthest thing from a good boy. No, he fucked Bucky’s hand, took advantage of him, used him for pleasure, and then let the man walk away without returning the favor or otherwise clarifying what happened. This is his fault. 

Is it so wrong that he wants more than a furtive handjob in the locker room? He doesn’t deserve it, but his heart aches for it to be more. 

That’s why he needs to put a stop to this. For Bucky’s sake, at least. Tony isn’t what Bucky thinks; he’s not a good partner. Further, Bucky is going to be disappointed in him inevitably. Bucky deserves someone who can make him laugh, who can support him as he reintegrates into society. That’s not Tony. What Tony does is wear a mask, and Bucky deserves better than what’s behind the veil. 

Nonetheless, he should probably stop his self-imposed isolation and let the world back in. He’s going to have to face the music anyway and tell Bucky that Tony isn’t cut out for this. 

And then there’s Steve. What would Steve think of Tony taking advantage of his friend? They’re not getting along, but that doesn’t mean you stop being friends. Steve would be so mad. He’s already gone out of his way to do Tony favors. He’ll think that Tony is greedy and that his lust can’t be contained. That’s too close to the truth, given his thoughts about the both of them. 

“Fuck.” 

Tony showers in the bathroom that’s in the shop and throws on a spare set of clothes he keeps for when he crawls out of his workshop after these benders. 

When JARVIS unlocks the door, it immediately opens and Steve strides through with a momentum that makes Tony think he was pacing just outside it. 

“Tony!” 

“Steve—” Tony starts.

“Don’t do that again.” Steve is suddenly there, pressed into his space, cupping Tony’s jaw in his hands. 

“I’m sorry.” And he is sorry. He didn’t mean to worry anyone. He just needed to get away. 

“What did Bucky do? I know he did something—”

“No! No, it’s not his fault. He didn’t do anything! It’s me. I—I don’t want to talk about it, but I’m sorry. I’m no good.”

Steve all but growls. 

“It’s going to be ok Tony. I promise it will.” Steve’s hands are at Tony’s hips, his thumbs stroking the soft flesh interior to the bones that jut out into Steve’s palms. It feels intimate, and Tony tries to back up, but Steve holds him fast. 

“You don’t know. You don’t know how I am,” Tony protests. He wants Steve so badly, it aches. He knows that Steve isn’t _for_ an omega like Tony. Tony is a slut, a side piece, who never gets the alpha. Wanting Steve feels like the worst kind of sin, because Steve is _good_. He’s shiny and clean, and all the things in this world that people strive to be and to have in their life. 

“I think I do. Let me show you what you deserve. You’re a good boy. My best boy.” Steve’s hand makes its way down and over Tony’s fly, pressing in until Tony gasps and jerks in Steve’s palm. Tony feels undone. 

“Steve! I’m—”

“ **It’s ok sweetheart. Just—just let go.** I’ve got you, baby.” Tony chokes on his words as Steve uses his alpha voice and starts to rub him. It’s so similar to what he experienced with Bucky that his mind feels like it’s being turned inside out, and he’s living in a mirror world. At least, it’s like that until Steve drops to his knees. 

“Oh god, _Steve_!” In his dreams, Steve worships Tony just like this, like Tony is _worth_ something. Like Tony has a place, and it’s by Steve’s side. 

Steve makes short work of Tony’s pants, which are already loose enough to slide off his hips with minimal resistance. His briefs fall with them, and Tony tries to cover himself with his hands, but Steve is quick to pull his wrists away, pinning them to Tony’s sides. 

Tony’s arousal is fierce and comes on so fast that his cock stands out and points itself right in Steve’s face. Steve wastes no time at all swallowing Tony, tongue plastered flat to the underside of his cock. Tony can feel slick coursing down his legs, but Steve seems to ignore it. 

“Steve, please, Steve—” It’s lost in whimpers and softer pleas. Steve doesn’t stop otherwise. He works Tony over like a recalcitrant animal that needs training. Each suck is like a lash, and every motion of Steve’s mouth has Tony heeling to Steve’s desires. It’s brutal in its pleasure, how _good_ Steve is at this, and how he’s not letting up for a moment. 

He wants to be so good for Steve, and he wishes that he was enough. But this is a game that Steve and Bucky seem to be playing with him. They accost him, get him to orgasm, and then they leave. 

None of those thoughts seem to matter though, as pleasure starts percolating in the base of his spine, and abruptly it zips up to blind and deafen him. He comes with a yell, and for a long stretch of time, it’s all he feels. Slowly he becomes aware of Steve cradling his face, Steve’s lips on his own, stealing Tony’s breath, and licking hard into Tony’s mouth. 

“Steve.” Tony pulls away. All of what he wants to say is in that single name, but it doesn’t seem like enough. 

“Tony, baby, it’s ok.” 

“It’s not ok! What are you thinking?” This has to stop. He wants to say he’s not a toy, but he fears that’s the impression he’s made. And being called ‘baby’ just hurts. He would kill to be Steve’s ‘baby.’ 

“Let’s not talk about it. It was good, wasn’t it? You enjoyed it?” Does it matter that he enjoyed it?

“Yes, but—” Tony sputters, exasperated and so confused. 

“You liked it, I liked it, it’s enough. We’ll talk later ok?” And Steve is gone, leaving Tony feeling a wreck, standing there in a pool of his pants and underwear.

\---

Tony is a stranger in his own home. 

He creeps back from his room to the workshop and doesn’t let anyone in while he’s there. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say. He feels like everyone can see it on him, what he’s done with Bucky and Steve. It’s occurred to him now, only recently, that the silence between Bucky and Steve might have something to do with what’s happening between Tony and the two men. Maybe that’s arrogant, or premature to think, but he’s not left with many clues to where he can confirm either way.

And Tony doesn’t want to confirm. 

He wants all this to stop. 

It feels like a cruel game where the hottest men that he has a crush on accost him for intimacy, one-upping the other each time they encounter Tony. 

What’s he supposed to say? 

He never suspected that they would go to such lengths to humiliate him, so here Tony is, doing his level best to conceal where he is at all times. 

It doesn’t work. 

It’s 4 am and he’s shuffling along the hallway to his room when Bucky slides out of the darkness and blocks his path. 

Tony turns to run, but Bucky is faster. So much faster. 

The man gets ahold of his wrist and yanks Tony back to stand chest to chest with him. At first Tony tries to struggle away, but Bucky gets a hold of his other arm, and soon they’re both clamped down, ending the tussle. 

“Oh no. I’m not playing this game. Not anymore. Leave me out of it!” Tony stares defiantly at Bucky, daring him to do something. Anything.

“What game, sweetheart?” Bucky looks bewildered, and Tony blinks but continues on with his protests. 

“I know I’m nothing compared to you two, and I know that I shouldn’t have much pride left, but this is beyond the pale, what you’re doing. Just stop.” 

“Tony, listen—”

“No! I’ve had both of you manhandling me, and I can’t take it anymore. I can’t. Please Bucky. _Please_.” 

“Baby, **listen**.” Tony freezes at the alpha voice that Bucky uses, so angry that this is the second time he’s had it performed on him this week. He’s done listening. He doesn’t want to hear anything that either of them has to say, but he’s stuck waiting out the command. “Tony, I want you. I want you to be mine, my omega.” 

“And what about Steve? I know you’re fighting, but I can’t be yours if he’s going around—”

“Has he hurt you?” Bucky is in his face then, nostrils flaring as he scents Tony. Tony smacks him on the shoulder, shoving him away. 

“He hasn’t hurt me! But he’s just as bad as you are, trying to screw around with me, with my head. I know I seem… promiscuous, but that time of my life is over. I won’t stand for being jerked around.” Tony feels vindicated as he finishes and watches Bucky’s face change from angry, to wary, to somewhat chastened. 

“We both want you. We thought—well, we thought we could see who you’d pick, without telling you what we wanted. Let you choose on your own.” Bucky starts to gesture at Tony, but cuts himself off and drops his hand, before reaching back up and tugging at his ear. 

“What? That’s—what in the fuck are you thinking?! I’ve been living like a ghost in my own house trying to escape you!” Chin held high, his voice shakes with rage. 

“Doll, we never meant—” 

“No! No, you don’t just get to—” Tony can feel his heart beat roaring in his ears. There’s the woosh of blood flow that he can feel from being so tense, and he’s thankful it’s drowning out Bucky’s responses. 

“ **Tony**.” The alpha voice shakes him to his core and his jaw snaps shut. “ **Do you want me?** ” 

It’s like a truth serum, and Tony _despises_ it. The loss of control is so acute, and it feels like it’s prying his jaws open. 

“Yes, god, yes I do.” 

“That’s all I need then.” And Bucky is on him, lips and teeth clacking against Tony’s, his hands roving around Tony’s frame, pressing into his skin. Tony groans, his nails biting into his palms as he clenches his fists, trying to resist. These alphas, they take what they want, and they don’t care about the consequences for any omega. Tony is so tired. He’s barely even relieved that it’s not a game, but the thought crosses his mind that it’s more frightening now that he knows this isn’t for fun. 

Bucky litters more kisses on Tony’s neck, suckling and kneading the flesh between his teeth. It’s so close to his mating gland that he can’t resist, and instead whimpers pitifully while Bucky dominates him. The alpha’s hands are everywhere: trailing at his waistline, caressing his ass, and digging into his thighs. 

The button on his jeans pops open and being the loose pair that he keeps around the workshop, they slink down his hips and make for the floor. 

“Bucky, please! I’m not sure—”

“I can make you sure, darlin’. Sweet little thing,” he rumbles into Tony’s neck. Tony gasps as Bucky’s fingers crawl into his boxers, and he tries to wiggle, away or towards, he’s not aware of which. It feels good in a way that nothing should. Bucky _likes_ him. Wants him. It’s unbelievable. And if Bucky is correct, Steve wants him too. 

He sucks in a breath. There’s a concern now about what he’s going to do with Bucky’s and Steve’s attention. Tony is getting hard from the thought alone that either alpha would consider him. 

“Where are you, Tony? All you should be thinking about is me.” Fingertips graze Tony’s cock and he hitches a breath. Bucky is demanding, not to be ignored. Tony’s body flares with desire that this alpha wants him to submit and allow him to give Tony pleasure. It’s too easy to start purring, a soft rumble emanating from his chest at the very idea that Bucky wants him. Maybe he even wants to mate Tony, take him and open him up on a knot just how Tony imagines Bucky doing. 

Bucky’s hand is jacking at Tony’s hard erection while the other makes its way down Tony’s crack. 

It’s embarrassing how slick Tony is down there, his ass probably flowering open as it waits for penetration. 

Bucky doesn’t disappoint as his fingertips gently circle Tony’s entrance, testing the landscape to see if Tony is receptive. 

And god yes, Tony is absolutely receptive. He wants it more than oxygen, more than the manic feelings he gets when he’s creating. The tenterhooks he’s hanging on feel flimsy, ready to toss his self-control away with the breeze. 

“Bucky, yes,” he hisses as one digit penetrates him. 

It must be that Bucky was waiting for a ‘yes,’ because the next second Tony is pinned to the hallway wall, his back facing Bucky as the other man pumps his finger in and out of Tony’s grasping ass. 

“Good boy, taking that so well. You want another finger? Of course you do. Your ass is so _greedy_. Perfect little slut, just for me.” 

_Oh._

Something about that name does it for Tony. Thinking of himself as Bucky’s slut gives Tony an eager sense of belonging to the alpha in a deeply sexual and visceral way. That his wanton nature is ok, and Bucky wants it. Tony knows he’s a needy omega, and being ashamed of it has only made him feel that much more desire to get on his knees for an alpha and just _take it_. That alpha in his imagination had always been Steve, and now lately, Bucky. 

And Bucky might just let him. 

Tony slides to the floor, knees scraping the wall as he does so, and Bucky goes with him, the two fingers he has shoved in never ceasing at their movement. He shoves his hips out and back, pressing into Bucky’s hand, and Bucky presses right back, wiggling a third finger in without warning. 

“That’s it. Show me how good you take it. Next time it’ll be my knot. Fill your hole full of my come until you’re crying. I’ll make you so full, you’ll _hurt_ , doll.” 

“Yes, yes, yes, please, I can’t, Bucky!” Babbling, Tony smacks his palms against the wall and braces as Bucky curls his fingers just so. It tears a loud shout from his throat. 

It’s not long after, as Bucky rubs at his prostate with singular determination, that Tony comes, his cock twitching out stream after stream of spend all over the wall and his thighs. 

“Such a **good boy**.” Bucky’s alpha voice reinforces it so hard that it makes Tony jerk, shiver, and clench around the fingers that are still probing his ass, seeking out the last spasms of orgasm. 

Bucky’s fingers pull out with a loud squelch of fluid, and Tony can hear Bucky suck each one clean. 

Tony is struck by the magnitude of what’s just happened. 

Bucky and Steve want him. To be theirs. 

Tony has never considered that he would have either of them, much less have to choose. 

Oh god, he has to choose. He can’t. He _can’t_. 

Tony yanks up his pants, feeling disgusted at how much slick is sticking to the fabric. He’s filthy and feeling used. As Tony flips around, he makes eye contact with Bucky, whose eyes are hooded and dark with intent, watching him like a predator. 

“You have to let me go, Bucky. Please.” He starts crawling backwards along the wall, trying to put distance between Bucky and himself. 

“Do I?” Bucky leans forward, planting his hands on the ground and looking like he’s going to stalk after Tony on all fours. 

There’s a tense moment where all Tony can think is to _run_ , his hindbrain operating on instinct alone even as his conscious self reminds him that running is the worst idea. Bucky will catch him and he knows what happens after that. There’s not a single alpha who wouldn’t claim what’s theirs after a chase. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want Bucky. But this is so far beyond his understanding of how this is supposed to go. 

And then there’s Steve. Tony wants Steve too, and as Bucky starts moving towards him, Tony thinks of running to Steve’s room and asking for protection, even if it means that Steve will want to claim Tony right after. 

But as if summoned, Steve appears in the hallway, arms crossed and looking furious. 

“Bucky. Leave him alone.” 

“I don’t think he wants to be left alone.” There’s a smug little smirk on Bucky’s face as he stares Steve down, and Steve’s nostrils flare as he grimaces. 

Tony doesn’t dare move as the two alphas continue to bluster at one another, Bucky slowly slinking to his feet and gazing at Steve with murderous intent. 

“He’s not a toy!” 

“I think he wants to be my little fuck toy. Permanently. Don’t you Tony?” Bucky doesn’t bother to look at Tony, instead stepping forward and in front of him in order to block Steve from reaching him. 

“I—I can’t do this!” Tony tears off, scrambling down the hallway to the stairwell. There’s a snarl from Bucky before he hears a body hit the wall, and he knows they’re fighting. 

Tony makes for the stairwell. 

\---

_“I’ve always cared for Tony. I never wanted to hurt him. I won’t let you take him away from me now. He deserves better. Are you sure you’re good enough?”_

_“It’s not about what he deserves. Not for me, you, or Tony. It’s about what he wants, Steve, and that’s something you can’t provide him with.”_

_“So you keep saying. But I don’t think you know for certain what Tony wants, either.”_

_“He’s listening to us right now. Shall we go find out?”_

_They pause, shuffling._

_Tony bolts._

He doesn’t make it far. Steve gets one arm, and Bucky is right behind him grabbing the other. He thrashes, but it makes little difference as the alphas press him between their chests, hands everywhere on Tony. 

“Caught you, babe,” Bucky purrs into his neck. Tony blinks up at Steve, who leans down and whispers, “sweetheart,” before lining kisses all along his jaw and down his neck. 

Steve is petting up and down Tony’s sides, being so reverent and gentle, while Bucky pinches at Tony’s nipples and grinds his cock into Tony’s backside. It’s an overwhelming amount of sensation and Tony moans, feeling indecent. Steve captures his lips, sucking down the throaty sound, and pries Tony’s mouth open with his tongue, seeking entrance. 

Bucky growls and pulls Tony tighter to him. 

“Pretty omega. You just want to be owned, don’t you? Collared and leashed at my beck and call for when I want to use you. I’ll take such good care of you, pet. Keep you sated.” Bucky’s whispered filth has Tony overwrought, and he squirms between the two men, his own already hard cock rubbing against Steve’s as he half-heartedly tries to escape. Omegas are built to orgasm again and again, almost limitless in their pleasure. 

“I have you, love. I’ll take care of you. I promise you always. You’re so good, omega. My perfect, sweet boy.” Steve peppers his words and more kisses along Tony’s face, and Tony gasps at the kindness in Steve’s voice. How much it sounds like he means it. 

All of it, every touch and the push-pull of Bucky and Steve’s natures, breaks Tony. 

“I can’t. I can’t! Please don’t make me choose,” Tony pleads. 

The two men are silent for a moment, a wordless conversation passing between them. 

“We’ll show you how it’ll be with us, and after, you can pick.” Steve pets Tony’s hair and slides his hand down to cup Tony’s chin. 

“No, no, no, please, I won’t! I can’t decide. Both of you are so—what am I supposed to do?!” Tony’s omega side wants to appease each alpha, but it’s impossible, because he can’t belong wholly to either of them like they want, and he starts to cry, an omega placation gesture that he wishes he could control. He rubs at his tears, wishing fiercely that they’d go away. 

“Just let me take care of you right now. I’ve got you, babe.” Steve licks at his wet cheek and picks Tony up, holding him close. Bucky steps away and leads them back down the stairs to Tony’s room. At least, that’s where Tony thinks they’re going. 

Exhausted from running, fighting, and generally being fraught, Tony doesn’t quite realize they’ve made it to his bed until Steve gently rests him on it. He gazes up at the two alphas, their faces inscrutable as they examine Tony. It makes him squirm, and he pushes himself up closer to his pillows, full well knowing that he can’t run, and there’s nowhere to hide. 

“You just had him, Bucky. He’s mine right now.” Steve doesn’t take his eyes off Tony as he speaks, and Tony whimpers at the thought of Steve taking him, right in front of Bucky. He’s so ashamed, but he thinks he wants that, because he can’t decide which alpha he needs more. His brain is screaming that ‘both’ is an acceptable answer. 

“If you think I’m leaving this room, you’re a bigger idiot than you look like, Stevie.” 

“Fine, but don’t interfere.” Steve places a knee on the bed, and Tony startles, not quite ready for what he thinks might happen. 

“You can’t stop me from talking to him. Or touching him.” Bucky is impudent, unrepentant. 

“I’ll show you the same _respect_ that you show me,” Steve spits. 

“You should be grateful I opened him up for you. He took three fingers and looked so good doing it.” Bucky sneers at Steve, arms crossed, his face triumphant. 

Steve looks like he wants to snarl at Bucky and say more, but instead he reaches for Tony’s leg, getting a good grip around his ankle and yanking Tony down. Tony tries to claw at the sheets and pillows, but there’s no hold on anything, and he finds himself squirming under Steve.

“Steve? Let me go? I told you both, I can’t pick. I don’t know which of you I should be with, which means maybe we should wait?” He’s not entirely sure what’s going to happen now. He doesn’t think he can take much more of this. Tony is unbearably aroused still, and he can’t help it. The sheer amount of alpha pheromones in the air make it impossible to think straight. The smells of fuck or fight on an alpha are so similar, Tony doesn’t know if Steve and Bucky are going to tear into each other over him or if they’re both going to take turns having him. From the way their conversation went, and how he’s able to see how _hungry_ Steve looks as the alpha gazes down at him, he suspects the latter. 

“Shh, baby. We’re going to help you choose. Just lay back, and let me have you. I’ll be so good to you.” Steve caresses Tony’s face, his hands rough from use, before he pushes Tony’s shoulders back down. Steve then reaches for Tony’s pants, and Tony slaps his hands away. 

“But Bucky—he’s right there!” 

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll make sure he treats you right. And after he’s done, we’ll have saved the best for last,” Bucky says. Steve growls at the other alpha, and Tony quakes. This is not what he had in mind, but he doesn’t see how he’s going to get away. He’s pretty certain he doesn’t want to. Is he a slut for wanting to be taken again by Bucky right after Steve finishes with him? Probably. He’s not good enough for either of them, but if this is what they want, and there isn’t much of a way out, he might as well enjoy it. He’s wanted Steve for so long, and his desire for Bucky is no different. 

Steve continues his efforts to remove Tony’s clothes while Tony lays there in a daze, wondering how this is at all happening. Soon, he’s completely naked and vulnerable, slick coating the insides of his thighs while he tries to hide his erection from the two alphas. 

“Come on doll, you’re gorgeous. Show him what’s going to be mine. Here. I’ll help you.” Bucky gets on the bed and grabs Tony’s arms, hauling him back onto Bucky’s body. Tony would feel distracted from the heat emanating behind him, but for Steve’s eyes, which are soft and warm as they catalog Tony’s body. Tony scrunches up, trying to hide again, but Steve doesn’t let him, the other man carefully prying his legs open and petting the insides of his thighs. Tony lays suspended between the two men, Bucky’s hands holding his arms and Steve pinning his legs like a butterfly. He’s a raw nerve, exposed and waiting to be plucked. 

“Tony, sweetheart, you’re so beautiful. I want to make a home with you. I don’t want this to be a one time thing—I need it not to be a one time thing. You’re the one I want to start a life with, and I can’t wait to share it with you. Say yes, baby. I _need_ to be inside you.” Steve’s hand is oh so gentle as he tests Tony’s entrance, fingertips stirring up arousal as they glance at Tony’s waiting hole. 

Tony doesn’t think there’s another answer other than ‘yes,’ though he’s deeply ashamed that he wants Steve and Bucky, together, all at once. He can’t extricate the sensations of both of them touching him, and wanting to is impossible; they’re under his skin now. 

“Say it, Tony. I need to hear the words.” Steve glides his hands up Tony’s body, petting his neck where the mating glands sit, his face so terribly kind. It sends shivers through him that trail down his spine and coalesce at the base of it, a threatening storm of sensation that promises to overwhelm. 

“Yes, Steve, please?” 

Steve’s smile is like the sun rising, blanketing Tony in happiness. Tony’s done something right and good, and Steve is eclipsing all the bad feelings with just the expression on his face. 

Tony watches as Steve grips his own hard cock—somewhere in the mix, Steve has shucked off all his clothes—and it’s the first time that Tony’s had a good look at it. It’s huge, with a purpling head that’s tight and shiny with precum and arousal. Steve hefts it, aiming down towards Tony’s entrance, the concentration on his face wrinkling his brow. Steve is so handsome, the lines of his jaw perfectly straight, the cream of his skin making his blue eyes stand out like jewels in the soft light of the bedroom as he focuses on Tony. If he’s being honest, Tony never thought Steve would look at him like this, like Tony matters and he wants to make it good for him. 

“Next time I’ll take my time with you. Get you ready for me and wrung out with orgasms. You’ll be so sweet like that, pliant and waiting for me to make love to you. I’m sorry baby, but I need you now. Please forgive me.” With that, Steve pushes in, breaching the outer ring with ease and slipping past the second, tighter muscle shortly after. He’s so much _more_ than Bucky’s fingers, and Tony bucks instinctively, the invasion of Steve’s flesh a sharp burning pain inside him. He keens, high and sad, and begs Steve with his eyes to let up. 

“Shh, I promise it’ll feel so good soon. Just let it happen. Hold me inside you, yeah, just like that. Tony, you’re so tight and good. So very good, my beautiful omega.” Being stroked all over by Steve makes the pain more bearable, and when Steve plucks at Tony’s hard cock, the pain almost evaporates altogether. 

“Aww babe, you look so good taking a cock. I’m going to love taking your ass right after, when it’s all wet and used for me. Steve thinks you’re this innocent thing, but we know better, don’t we?” Bucky’s lips are right at Tony’s ear, and as he whispers, Tony shudders at the tingling sensation. 

“Bucky,” Steve snaps. “Knock it off. It’s not your time and he’s not your toy. Or have you told him how you’re the kind of alpha who leaves an omega right after he’s had his way? Tony doesn’t want that. He deserves commitment, and all you offer is debasement.” 

“You’re an idiot if you think I’d let him go once he’s mine. Making love isn’t the only way of caring for an omega. They need to be _fucked_ , which you’re not capable of. You’ll inevitably disappoint him, and you’re already so good at disappointment when it comes to Tony.” 

“Please, don’t fight?” Tony begs. Bucky and Steve both are clenching him tightly enough to bruise, and Steve is pressing his cock hard into Tony’s body as he growls at Bucky. They’re close to a dominance fight, their pheromones coalescing in the air, thick with animosity, and Tony doesn’t think he would make it out from in between them if they decide to turn their anger into a physical altercation.

“Wait your turn, Bucky.” 

“Nah. I think I’ll take his mouth. Been waiting to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.” 

“Don’t ruin this for Tony,” Steve says, with an edge of desperation. Tony stays still and silent throughout the exchange, terrified that the two alphas will attack each other. He wishes Bucky would stop antagonizing Steve, and shamefully, he wishes Steve would _move_. It’s torture being impaled on Steve’s cock like this without any extra stimulation, and he reaches for his own cock, trying to ride the arousal he feels at his ass being so full of Steve. He can’t even contemplate what it will be like to have Bucky in his mouth at the same time. It’s so much. 

“Don’t waste your time, Steve. And get working. Tony needs it.” Bucky pulls Tony’s head to the side and resituates himself so that his head is on Bucky’s lap, with Bucky’s hard cock peeking out of his pants and pointed just slightly away from Tony’s lips. Steve starts to move then, pulling back and entering Tony with a smooth and controlled thrust. It barely taps Tony’s prostate, and he groans at the sensation, wishing it was more. 

“Open wide, yeah that’s good.” Bucky pinches at Tony’s jaw as Tony obediently parts his lips. It’s not a perfect alignment, but Bucky makes do as he bends his cock just so and slides the tip of it into Tony’s open mouth. As gentle as he can be, Tony suckles at the head, moaning at the taste, the now poignant thrusts of Steve, and the overall feeling of being _full_. 

Groaning around Bucky’s cock, Tony shivers as Steve picks up the pace, grabbing Tony’s hips and tilting them so that Steve gets the angle right. 

“ _Oh_ , you love being stuffed full, don’t you? Maybe I’ll have to let Stevie have you again if this is how you are when you have two cocks working you over.” 

“He doesn’t need you, Bucky. Tony, sweetheart, **look at me.** ” Tony pops off Bucky’s cock, unable to resist an alpha command. “There’s my darling. I’ll give you everything you need. All of it. I care about you so much. I’m so sorry for not showing you sooner.” Steve hauls Tony up and out of Bucky’s lap, looping Tony’s arms around his neck and standing up from the bed. Tony feels the open air at his back, and realizes that Steve is going to fuck him standing up. There’s something about that that makes him quiver, knowing about how strong Steve is and how much he’s wanted the man ever since he met him on the Quinjet. Steve is so _good_. So perfect and amazing, and everything Tony has ever believed him to be. How could Tony not care for him? 

“You’re mine, sweet thing. I’ll take care of you, I promise.” It’s so, so validating to hear that from Steve. God, Tony loves the man. _Loves_. 

A thread of guilt intrudes on his conscience, because he also wants Bucky, and it feels like a betrayal to how he feels about Steve. But he can’t help it. Steve makes him feel a light, effervescent happiness, like bubbles in wine held up against the sun. Bucky leaves him feeling like he’s dying for love, like god for a repentant sinner. He’s no closer to making a choice than he was before this all started. 

And all of this, all of what’s happening, is like a filthy dream come true. 

Steve now has Tony bouncing on his cock, suspended in mid-air, chest to chest as Steve hauls him up and down. Their bodies slide together, sweat slicking their skin as Tony listens to the lewd slap of his body slamming down on Steve. Tony’s arms and torso are cinched tight against Steve, and he feels secure in a way he hasn’t been in so long. Steve will never drop him, never let him go without making sure he’s safe. For once, after everything that’s happened before, Tony believes that Steve is there for him this time. That there aren’t lies between them or petty battles to be fought. 

“Steve, mmph!” Tony is crying out Steve’s name when he descends on Tony’s lips, locking them in a sweet, soft, and sucking kiss. Steve laps at the entrance of Tony’s mouth, nibbles on his lower lip and tugs it down. Tony lets him, opening his mouth and letting his tongue graze Steve’s. Steve kisses him like he’s drowning and needs the air from Tony’s lungs to breathe. He swallows every tiny cry that’s jerked from Tony by the thrust of Steve’s hard length and leaves kind and doting kisses all over Tony’s face, dipping into Tony’s mouth as if to remind Tony that he’s not forgotten about its existence.

“Babe, Tony. Say you’ll be mine.” Tony wants to answer yes. He very much does, but he’s shocked into silence when he feels teeth on his shoulder, clamping down just under where his mating glands are. It’s a threat, a promise. 

“You’re not playing by the rules,” Bucky rasps in Tony’s ear, though his words are meant for Steve, Tony knows. 

Steve growls and wrenches Tony away from Bucky, laying him back on the bed. Tony, who hasn’t had any agency throughout this entire encounter, grabs hold of Steve’s shoulders and whimpers out his compliance. It’s so hard to think with Steve pounding into him, stretching and pressing out every bit of feeling Tony has. Steve’s eyes bore into his, the blue of them clearly visible as he searches Tony’s face for something and seems to find it. 

“I want you to look me in the eyes as I knot you, ok love?” 

Tony just nods, beyond speech. 

Steve grasps Tony’s cock and starts to pump it in time with his hips that are snapping into Tony at a ferocious pace. The muscles in his channel are fighting for and against the intrusion, aching so sweetly with effort to clench on a knot. Steve hikes up Tony’s legs so that Tony’s knees are by his head, and proceeds to pull his entire length out before slamming it back in with exquisite accuracy. Tony looks down to see Steve’s slick cock as he pulls it out before it disappears once more. Steve is beautiful, his abdominal muscles clenched together with effort, his chest tight, and arms tense. His lovely face is all that Tony can see. All that Tony wants to see. 

“You’re so perfect around me. I could have you like this daily, so pretty and darling,” Steve pants, stuttering in his pace, huffing out little breaths over Tony. 

As Steve loses control, he groans, and Tony feels the burgeoning sensation of his own impending orgasm. Steve is taking him higher and higher, pushing all thought from his mind with each tender stroke. 

Tony tosses his head back and whips his head to the side. It’s so much sensation. His body is fire, melting into the mattress and being turned inside out. Steve is remaking him, molding every crevice of his body into something that’s solely for him. When Tony opens his eyes, his cheek pressed firm to the bed, he sees Bucky there, watching with a hunger that should frighten him. He sucks in a breath, thrilled and terrified all at once, watching on a cliff’s edge for Steve and his orgasm. 

“Come for him, pretty slut. Come all over his cock.” It’s obscene, Bucky’s words. Crude and low. But it’s effective, and Tony’s body seizes up as he looks back at Steve. Harder than he was before, Tony knows that Steve is on the same precipice that Tony is, and he _squeezes_ tight, letting himself to come, and come, and come. 

There’s the roar of blood in his ears as everything _tightens_ , spiraling so very close before it lets loose in a torrent of groans and spend. Steve hauls Tony tight, his knot popping in over Tony’s quivering rim as Tony paints himself, stripes hitting his stomach and chest as his cock bobs and sways. 

“Love you, love you so very much, I promise I’ll be there. I’ll be with you and for you. You only have to want it back, and everything I have is yours.” Somehow, Steve is coherent enough to speak to Tony, lowly and wanting, as Tony lays gasping and writhing on Steve’s knot. The spasms from Steve’s cock drive Tony into frenzied thoughts of _full_ and _stuffed_ and _bred_. If Tony weren’t on birth control, he would, without a doubt, be pregnant from the sheer amount of come that’s being pumped into him from Steve. And he has yet to take another load from Bucky. He doesn’t know how it’s all going to _fit_. 

Almost as if he’s a mind reader, Steve rubs his hand over Tony’s belly, smearing cum under his hand as he caresses the skin there. 

“Oh Steve,” Tony sighs. 

“You’d look so beautiful swollen with my children. I could make you forget what it’s like to be alone in your own body, I’d keep you so overflowing with my seed, my pups.” Steve’s voice is overawed. 

“I don’t disagree Steve. I’d send him to bed leaking; ridden hard, and put away wet.” Bucky has moved to stand behind Steve, and Tony watches as the alpha casually works his cock over with a hand. Waiting. 

Steve acts as though he didn’t hear a word Bucky has said, and Tony chokes a bit as another convulsion of Steve pours more into him. 

“Another time, I’d bathe you. Let you rest and rub those sore muscles out.” The ‘but’ hangs in the air. 

“Steve, I…” Tony trails off. This was nothing and everything like he imagined it. He doesn’t know what to say, what to impart to Steve to let the other man know how much this meant to Tony. Because it does mean something. He felt the sheer outpouring of Steve’s desire, his love for Tony, and it humbles him to know that Steve feels so deeply for him. 

Steve’s knot begins to loosen, and with it, Steve’s face crinkles with agitation. Tony knows that Steve wants to stay; stay in him, stay with him. His cock is so perfect nestled inside Tony. He never wants this to end. 

“Steve.” Bucky sounds agitated and firm in his warning. And with a sigh, Steve listens, pulling his cock out with a wet slurp, and Tony can _feel_ himself spill hot liquid down his crevice and onto the sheets. Steve moves up the bed, cock glistening and stuck haphazardly to his thigh right next to Tony’s face, the knot still puffy and red. Tony wants to lick it, to taste himself and Steve, make himself useful. 

Tony opens his mouth and cranes his neck towards Steve’s crotch instinctively, and Steve doesn’t prevaricate, but instead grasps his wet cock and leans in to feed it to Tony’s waiting mouth. 

“Yeah that’s right, take his cock. Taste yourself on him. You’re going to take me so well, aren’t you omega? Gonna make you squirm on my knot.” 

Tony gasps around Steve’s member as Bucky abruptly shoves three fingers inside, driving straight for Tony’s sensitive prostate and rubbing. It’s abrupt, sending lighting strikes up and down his spine and frissons of electricity throughout his limbs. He jerks in time with each swipe and soon Steve’s cock is laying in Tony’s limp mouth as he simply breaths around it. 

“You paying attention to me now, doll? That’s right. Good little omega. My fucking good boy. I loved watching you take him. Maybe I’ll let him use you again, as a public service, but you’ll always be mine—” 

“Bucky! Treat him with respect.” 

Tony groans, utterly ashamed of the idea of being just a hole to be used by Bucky, by Steve, by _anyone_ Bucky wanted. He doesn’t know if he could do it. It’s one thing to be shared with Steve, but anyone else sounds better in his mind as just an idea rather than a reality. 

“He wants to be useful, Steve. Don’t underestimate him.” Bucky looks down at Tony and pulls out his fingers from inside Tony to gently pet his face, leaving a wet trail. “I would never let anyone else use you, except who you were comfortable with. But I’d let them watch you get fucked by me, knowing they can’t have you, that you’re my omega. Because you have to know how fucking good you look with a load in you. I’d keep you like that if I could. Wet and used. Filthy and waiting. Like the slut you know you are. My slut.” Bucky’s words are driving Tony up the wall, and his wilted cock is starting to fatten again. Bucky hasn’t even started in with his cock yet. Bucky reinserts his fingers and goes to work once more, leaving Tony to moan and tilt his head back onto Steve’s waiting lap. 

Bucky leans down and licks the stripe of wetness on Tony’s face before going for a nipple. It sends shockwaves through him when it’s sucked roughly into Bucky’s mouth, and Tony lets out a very submissive squeak. The man doesn’t relent; he’s merciless, tormenting each nipple back and forth with suck-bruising efficiency. Tony looks down at how peaked and red they are and locks eyes with Bucky as his lips are wrapped around Tony’s flesh. 

He pops off and gives Tony a wicked grin. 

“You know I’d suck you when your breasts are full and sore from too much milk. You’ll need me. And you’ll want me. Can you imagine that? Me licking these beautiful tits? Perhaps I’ll fuck them when they’re full.” Tony groans. That thought, the very idea of Bucky milking him, massaging his tender breasts, is sordid, but Tony wants it. He’s panting now, somewhere in between Bucky’s dirty talk his breath turned to little huffs. 

Steve twitches behind Tony, and he can feel Steve’s cock stir against his arm. 

“I’d ask if you’re ready, but, well.” Bucky tilts his head as his lips curl. Then he’s looking down at himself, cock in hand as Tony watches him guide it to his entrance. It’s a fat cock, thicker than Steve, but just a tiny bit shorter. It’s going to batter his prostate as effectively as Bucky’s fingers, he can already tell. 

When Bucky breaches him, it’s one smooth and long glide through the messy stickiness of Steve’s cum and Tony’s slick. It’s all over his thighs, sunk into a wet spot on the bed, and the sensation of it is as cool as a wet cloth. 

“Ah, that’s good. I knew you’d feel like heaven.” 

“As far as you’re concerned, every omega feels like heaven. It never made you stay,” Steve says, his arms wrapping around Tony’s neck and upper chest. Tony feels a nuzzle at his ear, gentle and sweet. He sighs into it, feeling touched, _loved_ everywhere. He could do this forever, wedged between these two men that he adores. The solution to this entire situation is percolating in his mind, but he’s not sure if he’ll be able to get them to agree. 

Bucky grunts and thrusts, his irritation at Steve’s words wrapped inside his movements. Slowly, harshly, he starts fucking into Tony, every rough movement a sucking sound of fluid in Tony’s ass. Tony is so open and loose that he can barely feel his muscles clench at Bucky’s cock, but he knows when he comes, he’ll lock down on Bucky’s knot hard enough to keep it inside. 

Tony watches every bit of motion, all of the rippling of Bucky’s body over his own, Bucky’s arms pressed hard into the bed at Tony’s sides as the man rocks into him before snapping his hips forward. And his eyes, oh his eyes. They’re pinioning Tony in place. He feels buried by them, the sharp-dark blue of them in the low light stabbing at Tony’s heart. Despite what Steve has said, Tony knows with a surety he can’t explain that Bucky means to stay with him. That he means this. 

“You like that Tony? Gonna fuck my children into you. Breed you so full.” His words make Tony shiver. Carrying their pups would be a joy. Something his body is made for and he wants with a fierceness that surprises him. He’s never considered himself a family man or deeply contemplated what it would be like to be a mother. He never thought he’d get the chance. 

But here it is, offered by both men, freely. 

“Gonna take such good care of you. You’ll never go unfucked. I’ll have you day and night until you’re begging me to stop when you’re not pleading for my knot.” Bucky slams his hips hard into Tony’s, and Tony yelps. He’s fully hard now, his cock aching for more release. Release that Bucky will surely grant him. He’s been so generous otherwise. 

“Oh god, Bucky, please—” 

Steve is rubbing Tony’s head and shoulders, reminding him not to forget the other man as Bucky pounds into him with vicious abandon. 

“Yeah, that’s it, beg for it. So gorgeous when you’re needy like this.” Bucky leans over Tony and his eyes glitter with what must surely be desire. Tony could stare into the depths of those eyes forever. The idea that he might get to flutters inside his breast like a trapped bird. 

And then there’s Steve. Steve, who he loves, who has hurt him but has come back and achieved Tony’s forgiveness. They’ve spent so much time together, knowing each other so intimately before they ever had a romantic moment. 

Tony isn’t going to choose. There’s no possible way he can. 

The idea tightens his groin and twitches his cock, preparing him to orgasm once more. This time for Bucky, and Tony pulls his legs up and out just a bit so that Bucky can hit his prostate. Bucky gets the idea and moves his hands from the bed to Tony’s legs, bending him down even more, putting rough pressure on Tony’s rim as he does so. 

“Fuck!” Bucky judders, hips sliding through sweat and jerking into Tony’s used hole. “Need to fill you—” Bucky pants out, fingers gripping tight enough to leave petal shaped bruises on Tony’s legs as Bucky’s cock gets ever harder. 

Tony grasps himself in hand, timing his strokes to Bucky’s, wanting with a desperation bordering on profound to come together with him. The other man smiles down at him in acknowledgement, looking so pleased and connected with Tony’s pleasure. If it could always be like this, Tony could just die with happiness. 

“That’s it babe, take my knot, fuck—” It undulates through Bucky, his orgasm reverberating back to Tony as he starts to come once more, cum oozing out of the slit of his cock this time, creating tiny little puddles on his belly that drip down his sides as Bucky rides Tony to his own completion. 

Tony gasps as the knot expands, his whole world narrowing onto that single point of contact that constricts his prostate all at once, extending his already drawn-out orgasm into something mind-warping. Bucky is grunting, twisting his hips into little circles as he pulses stream after stream into Tony’s greedy ass. 

Tony takes it all, feeling split open and raw. 

“He is right. You do look so beautiful like this. I want you to be lovely and strung out with pleasure for me.” Steve is talking, but Tony can barely register it. Only that Steve’s promises sound as magnificent as Bucky’s, and he can’t wait to experience them. 

“Good omega. So very good,” Bucky croons as he lowers himself down on top of Tony, pressing into the come on his stomach and bracketing Tony’s face with his arms. His body is almost wet and it’s sandwiched between the two men, who, for the moment, are not posturing at one another. 

In the aftermath, Tony could almost argue that it’s peaceful and that it’ll all be ok. That there’s nothing to solve. He gulps and starts to leverage himself up, pushing Bucky off his chest and pulling himself away from Steve. 

“We have to talk.” 

\----

After a shower for each of them in their respective rooms, Tony locks down the living room using JARVIS and awaits the two alphas while wedged into a fluffy couch with a Starkpad. He could really use a whiskey, but he needs his faculties more. Tapping at the screen, he picks at Iron Man upgrades, sending instructions to his 3d printers in the workshop with almost mindless clicks.

He doesn’t self-castigate for not being able to focus; afterall, he’s got less than ten minutes probably before one or both of them show up. Tony tells himself that he’s got it under control, but if that were true, he wouldn’t be sitting here now. At this point though, he can’t extricate himself from events. From them. 

Steve makes it to the room first, the buzz of his hair tipped a light brown from moisture. 

“Tony.” Steve says it like benediction, his face alight with hope and all good things. 

“No you don’t, Steve. Sit down and wait.” After not being the one in charge, Tony is well and tired of it. He has ultimatums to deliver, stress to alleviate. 

Bucky doesn’t keep them waiting, and as he enters the room he takes his cue from Steve, sitting on a separate couch, but not near Tony. Trust the Winter Soldier to have a good idea of when it’s not the time to be a boundary-pressing flirt. Not that it would have changed Tony’s decision. 

Tony pauses, examining each of them. Steve is wearing his too-tight white shirt and running pants combination, looking oddly out of place with his bare feet. His muscles ripple as he clenches his hands together and there’s a tweaking movement in Steve’s jawline that Tony registers as similar to the anxiety that Steve displays when they’re in the field. 

Bucky is no better. His stillness, Tony realizes, is his tell. The quietude of the Soldier reveals that Bucky isn’t certain of his footing here. Even as he too is dressed in a sleeveless black shirt with his military styled pants that he usually wears for the field, when he’s most definitely in charge. Bucky did take the time to put on boots, which only add to his stress-induced state of preparedness. 

“Looks like you’ve got something figured out, doll.” Bucky is the first to move, uncrossing his arms and resting his palms along his knees, strings of wet hair falling out of his messily tied bun. 

“I do.” 

They both stare at him, their own brand of uncertainty lurking in their eyes. A mere thirty minutes ago, Bucky was buried balls deep inside of Tony. A mere hour ago, Steve was filling him up, promising him pups. The images are pasted to the back of Tony’s eyelids and seared into his brain. His throat clicks as he opens his mouth and closes it again. 

“Take your time, Tony.” Steve is trying to be nice, Tony knows, and it helps spur him on. 

“This is how it’s going to go. You’re both going to date me, exclusively, and you’re going to be at least cordial with each other, or neither of you are going to date me.” 

They both freeze in their seats before eyeing up the other with unconcealed disdain. 

“You’ll have time to decide. I know you’ll need to talk.” 

“I don’t. Need time,” Steve says, turning on the beam of light that is his winning smile onto Tony. The shiny white and shape of those teeth should be illegal in all 50 states of America. 

“I don’t either.” Bucky stands and offers his hand to Tony, not willing to be one-upped by Steve’s demonstration. It spurs Steve to get up as well and approach. They both gaze down at him, and Tony switches back and forth between their beautiful faces. This is probably the worst idea in the history of bad ideas, but Tony can’t help it. Wanting both of them and getting both of them has led to him needing to keep it. 

“So you agree? Just like that?” 

The two alphas look between each other, and the sparks that used to be the friendship Tony had seen initially start to shine through the cracks. 

“I think we thought that there was only room for one of us. But since that’s not the case…” Steve trails off. 

“I can share with Stevie. No one else though. You’re,” Bucky pauses, ruminating, “ours.” 

“Ours,” Steve confirms. 

“Then I think you both owe me a date. We’ve already done most everything else.” Tony grins at them, and the sheer relief he feels is palpable in the pheromones he’s putting off. A happy omega is like an emotional air freshener for everyone within smelling distance. 

“Stevie, I think we have dates to plan.” Bucky inclines his head at Steve, a bit of shyness in the tilt and the small smile he has nestled on his face. Steve slaps a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, grinning with the kind of cheer that is only embodied in Captain America. 

“So no more accosting me in the halls or trying to kill each other with eye contact?” Tony says lightly. 

“I promise the latter, but not the former.” Bucky’s expression is wicked delight, and he leans down to peck a kiss on Tony’s check. Steve follows him, smile still pasted on as he plants one on Tony’s other cheek. 

“We’ll be seeing you soon, Tony,” Steve says, mischievous intent written on his face, and the two alphas leave the room, elated. 

Tony thinks he’s going to like whatever new game the boys come up with. He might not even mind if he ends up being pursued all throughout the tower. Either way, he’s gotten what he wanted, and he thinks that his alphas did too.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[ART] Faithful are the Wounds of a Friend by fundamentalBlue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/30079842) by [PhenomenalAsterisk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhenomenalAsterisk/pseuds/PhenomenalAsterisk)




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